


These Hearts They Race From Self Control

by DialedIn



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Clexa Week 2021, F/F, Love Confessions, Sleepovers, accidental love confession, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DialedIn/pseuds/DialedIn
Summary: Clarke and Lexa have been friends for a little while now, and Clarke invites Lexa over to her house for a sleeperover. Except it turns out that Clarke has a bit of a talking in her sleep problem.For Clexa Week 2021Day 1 - Accidental Love Confession
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 9
Kudos: 117
Collections: Clexaweek2021





	These Hearts They Race From Self Control

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little but of pure fluff. Happy Clexa week everyone! 
> 
> Title is from "Hand Down" by Dashboard Confessional.

Lexa is using her backpack as a seat, as she waits for the bus. She hates having to ride the last bus of the day, because it means she has to wait around after school for so much longer. But her father works long hours and her older sister has college classes, so the bus is her only way home. She is staring across the parking lot, humming a song that’s stuck in her head, when a blonde girl bounds up to her and introduces herself as Clarke before she proceeds to talk Lexa’s ear off for the entire time they wait for the bus. Clarke slides into the seat next to Lexa when the bus finally comes, and by the time Lexa gets off at her stop, she has a new best friend. 

They become inseparable immediately, sitting together at lunch, passing notes in between classes, and of course spending their bus rides home together. Clarke is an artist, and she talks about art like it is her lifeline. Lexa doesn’t know anything about art, but she is generally a quiet person anyway, and doesn’t mind letting Clarke talk about something she is obviously so passionate about. That’s what Lexa tells herself is the reason she is so drawn to Clarke - her passion. As their friendship grows over the course of weeks and then months, Lexa continues to stick to her guns that the reason she can’t stop thinking about her new friend is because Clarke is so fascinating and nice and unlike any of Lexa’s other friends. Because it definitely isn’t because she finds Clarke beautiful in a way that is still a little confusing to her teenage self.

When Clarke slides into the bus seat next to Lexa one Tuesday afternoon and invites Lexa to her house for a sleepover on Friday night, Lexa grins and readily accepts. She doesn’t get invited to many sleepovers because she is quiet and shy and sometimes a little intense. She doesn’t mean anything by it, she’s just a serious person by nature.

Lexa asks her dad as soon as he comes home from work that night. He agrees, but asks who Clarke is (even though Lexa knows she’s talked about her new friend) and says he needs to talk to Clarke’s parents. Her sister, Anya, looks at her with a strange pensive look across the dinner table, and Lexa pointedly ignores her.

When Friday comes, Lexa is beyond excited. She has packed and repacked her bag, trying to make sure she has everything she needs for the night. She wonders what Clarke will want to do, what Clarke’s house looks like, and what her parents are like.

Clarke chatters the  _ whole  _ way to her house, which amuses Lexa to no end. She is a little nervous about the night, only because she still doesn’t know how she feels about Clarke. Lexa finds herself wondering what it would feel like to touch Clarke’s face, to hold her hand, to...she shakes her head and tries to refocus on what Clarke is saying. She knows Clarke would never think of her that way, because last month when Finn Collins invited Clarke to the homecoming dance, she had said yes. Clarke hasn’t talked much about Finn since then, but he hangs around Clarke’s locker a lot more now, and Lexa tries not to think of what those things mean. But it’s hard when her brain can’t seem to make up its mind about how she feels about Clarke.

“Hello, earth to Lexa!” Clarke says, waving her hand in front of Lexa’s face and laughing.

“Sorry,” Lexa responds, shaking her head and trying to clear the confusing thoughts, “I guess I was daydreaming.”

“Obviously,” Clarke playfully rolls her eyes, “I was asking what you wanted to do tonight.”

“Umm, It doesn’t matter to me, what do you want to do?” And it doesn’t, really. Lexa knows she will have a good time whatever they do, because Clarke will be there.

Clarke laughs, her blue eyes bright and brilliant. “Well you’re the guest. It’s supposed to be up to you, but I can come up with some ideas. We can make cookies, or some other dessert. We can play video games, or watch a movie. What sounds good?”

Lexa thinks for several seconds. “Cookies,” she decides finally, “ and then a movie sounds good.”

Clarke’s smile lights up her face. “Great ideas! We have a pretty decent movie collection, my dad has a movie buying problem. Sounds like fun!”

They get to Clarke’s stop ten minutes after they pass Lexa’s usual stop - their town isn’t that big, and Lexa grabs her duffle bag and clambers off the bus after Clarke.

Clarke turns to wait for Lexa, then grabs her hand excitedly and pulls her toward the front door of her house. Lexa gasps slightly at the tingle she feels where their hands are connected, and hopes Clarke doesn’t price anything.

Clarke’s dad is in the kitchen when they spill into the front door. He is putting dishes away and has a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. He is blonde like Clarke and has the same friendly smile - Lexa already knows she will like Clarke’s dad a lot, and she feels herself relax.

“Dad, this is my new friend, Lexa.” Clarke introduces Lexa in the same way she does most things - to the point and with a smile on her face.

“Hi new friend Lexa,” Clarke’s dad says, and laughs at his own joke, “I’m Jake Griffin, you can call me Jake if you want.”

“Okay, Mr. Griffin,” Lexa says, a little shyly. Even if she wanted to call her friend’s dad by his first name, she doubts the manners training engrained in her will let her. 

Mr. Griffin laughs, then ruffles Clarke’s hair. “I like her already. What are you girls planning to do?”

“We were thinking of making cookies,” Clarke says, “and then a movie later.”

Mr. Griffin nods, “That sounds like a great idea, maybe we can order pizza for dinner. Your mom is working late.”

“Pizza sounds good,” Clarke says, then looks at Lexa, “what is your pizza preference?”

“I’m pretty easy to please,” Lexa tells her with a laugh, “I just don’t like anything too wild like anchovies or mushrooms.” She shudders slightly, and both Clarke and Mr. Griffin laugh.

Mr. Griffin orders two pizzas, one with pepperoni and one with pineapple and ham, and Clarke beckons Lexa to follow her.

They climb the stairs to Clarke’s room, and Lexa exhales in disbelief when the door opens. Clarke’s room is beautiful, bright, loud, and so perfectly  _ Clarke.  _ There are murals covering almost every inch of the walls, art supplies scattered over every surface, and more color than Lexa has ever seen in one bedroom.    
  


“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess,” Clarke says with a slight shrug, her face reddening every so slightly, “I get carried away sometimes when I paint.”

“ _ You  _ painted these?” Lexa says, her mouth falling opening in shock as she takes in the paintings again.

Clarke nods, chuckles slightly. “Well, yeah. Who else do you think painted them?”

“Your parents let you paint on your walls?” Lexa cannot imagine what her father would say if she ever dared to do something like paint her walls. 

“Yep.” Clarke answers simply, “It makes my mom a little crazy, which helps keep her out of here and therefore not harping on my mess. But yeah they encourage my art.”

Lexa is still pretty shocked, but also so impressed. “This is beautiful, Clarke. You’re so talented.”

Clarke blushes even deeper, puts her hands in the front pockets of her jeans, bites her bottom lip. “Thanks,” she finally says.

Lexa places her bag down near the door and wanders further into the room, looking at the different designs. There are so many different pictures and most don’t seem to even go together, almost as if Clarke paints a random picture whenever the inspiration strikes her. One wall features a scene out of a fairytale, with elves and fairies frolicking around toadstools, but another features more abstract designs and loud colors. 

“Why don’t we head back down and start the cookies,” Clarke says, “I’ll give you the full tour on the way down. 

Lexa nods, places her bag on the floor close to Clarke’s bed, and follows Clarke out of the bedroom. They pass Clarke’s bathroom which is right next to her bedroom, and while painted a light purple color, is not covered in Clarke’s artwork. Clarke shows Lexa the living room, dining room, downstairs bathroom, and then they end up back in the kitchen.

Mr. Griffin is still in the kitchen, now sitting at the breakfast bar flipping through a cookbook. “Is it cookie time?” he asks when they walk in.

“Yeah, I figure we should go ahead and get started. When will the pizzas be here?”

Mr. Griffin turns his wrist to glance at his watch, “Should be in the next twenty minutes.”

“That’s perfect,” Clarke says, “gives us plenty of time to get a batch in the oven at least.”

“What kind are we making?” Lexa asks. She is a big fan of cookies, as desserts go cookies are probably her top choice.

“We probably have the ingredients for chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, and maybe peanut butter,” Mr Griffin says with a smile, “anything else is probably too fancy for what we have here.”

Clarke looks at Lexa expectantly.

“Chocolate chip?” Lexa says, but it comes out more of a question.

Clarke grins so wide and her eyes brighten to an impossible blue. “Chocolate chip cookies are my favorites too.”

In the end, they make three dozen chocolate chip cookies, which is way more than either of them need.

While they eat pizza, they talk about their day and answer Mr. Griffin’s questions. He is interested in everything that Clarke says about school and her art. After the pizza is finished, Lexa and Clarke settle into eating cookies with glasses of milk. Lexa is having an incredible time, she can’t remember having so much fun at a sleepover before. 

“Wow! You weren’t kidding about your dad’s movies,” Lexa says when Clarke shows her the shelves that are overflowing in the living room. 

Clarke laughs, “I told you. We have way too many movies, it drives my mom crazy!”

“What do you feel like watching?” Lexa asks.

“Do you want something funny? Or maybe scary?” Clarke cocks her head to the side as she waits for Lexa to choose.

“Funny is good.” Lexa answers. She’s not a big fan of horror movies, and doesn’t want to freak out in front of Clarke. 

Clarke hums in response and starts digging through the shelves. After a few seconds she finally pulls a movie out and holds it up. “Friends working together to save the world from alien life invasion. What’s not to like?”

Lexa laughs, “Sounds perfect.”

“Great! What do you think, popcorn too?”

“Of course,” Lexa answers with a grin, “we’ve got to have popcorn.”

“Okay, head up to my room and you can change in the bathroom. I’ll meet you up there with the popcorn and we can watch it on my TV.” 

Lexa gets changed into her pajamas, carefully folding her clothes and placing them back into her bag when she returns to Clarke’s room. 

They end up on the couch in the living room, a comfortable L shaped monstrosity that Lexa loves the minute she sits down on. Lexa takes a seat near the arm on the right side of the couch and she’s thrilled when Clarke chooses to sit right beside her instead of further up on the couch, even though there is plenty of room.

“Do you want a blanket?” Clarke asks, pointing to a fleece blanket resting on the back of the couch.

“Sure,” Lexa answers, because having a blanket during a movie is never a bad idea.

They settle in and Clarke presses play on the remote. Lexa is acutely aware of how close Clarke’s body is to hers, how easy it would be to just reach out and hold Clarke’s hand. She folds her hands in her lap, squeezing them closely together so there is no chance of wandering. 

The movie gets started, and Clarke was right, it’s hilarious and Lexa laughs more than she has in a movie in a long time. She tries not to get too distracted by the sound of Clarke’s laugh, the smell of her shampoo that Lexa can smell every so often, the  _ closeness _ of their bodies. She grips her hands tighter and tighter in her lap, and keeps her eyes on the screen, laughing at the funny parts and trying to pay attention.

Eventually the movie is over, and Clarke turns the TV off. It’s late now, Mr. Griffin said goodnight to them over an hour earlier, and Mrs. Griffin has already popped her head in on her way in the door after work, and then disappeared upstairs. The only light, now that the television is dark and quiet, in a small lamp on a side table. Lexa is aware of Clarke’s presence next to her, and she turns to find Clarke’s eyes on her.

“Hey,” Clarke says softly, looking at Lexa with a look that Lexa can’t quite place.

“Hi,” Lexa answers. She sounds ridiculous, even to herself, but her brain doesn’t seem to be interested in forming any other words.

Clarke swallows, seems to shake herself out of whatever fog she is in. “Did you like the movie?”

Lexa nods, still unable to convince her words to behave like she thinks they should.

“Good. I’m glad,” Clarke says softly. “Are you tired?”

She isn’t, not really. Her mind is racing, full of thoughts and feelings that she can’t quite understand. Going to sleep though seems like the most reasonable next step, so she nods again. She really hopes Clarke doesn’t think she isn’t enjoying herself.

“Okay, well let me turn off the lights down here, you can either wait for me or head on up. I’ll be right there.”

Lexa decides to head up to Clarke’s room, she figures maybe having a few minutes to herself might help her organize her thoughts a little better so she doesn’t inadvertently ruin the rest of the night. When she gets upstairs, she passes Clarke’s room and decides to use the bathroom and brush her teeth.

As she stares at herself in the mirror she tries to tell herself that the night will be fine, that she will be fine.

When Lexa returns to Clarke’s bedroom, Clarke is already there, straightening up clothes. Clarke smiles when Lexa walks in, “There you are.”

“I went and brushed my teeth,” Lexa responds easily.

“I need to go do the same. Be right back, okay?”

“Sure.”

While Clarke is gone, Lexa spends the time staring at the pictures on the walls again, still in awe of the artwork. Clarke is so talented, and Lexa can’t believe someone as interesting and bubbly as Clarke would be interested in being friends with her. She takes in the details of one wall, noting the tiny separate pieces strewn in within the bigger pictures and steps closer. With a start, Lexa realizes she recognizes the picture she is looking at. It’s a painting of her, sitting at the bus stop, Clarke walking up to her. It’s a picture of the day they met.

Lexa can’t help the way her heart jumps and flutters in her chest. She traces the lines of the painting, when Clarke’s soft voice sounds behind her and she jumps involuntarily.

“I painted that as soon as I got home that day,” Clarke says by way of explanation.

“You did?” 

Clarke laughs, a tiny sound that almost sounds like she’s holding something back. “Yeah, Lexa, you’re one of my best friends.”

Lexa doesn’t know what to say, so she turns to Clarke and smiles.

Clarke steps forward and envelopes Lexa in a friendly hug. Lexa tries not to react, but she can’t help but feel like this is the happiest she has ever been, and that she wouldn’t mind spending more time in Clarke’s embrace.

When they get ready to go to sleep, Clarke starts spreading a blanket on the floor, and Lexa looks at her with a confused look. “What are you doing?”

“Making a place for me to sleep, you can have my bed since you’re the guest.” 

Lexa shakes her head. “No, you can’t sleep on the floor, this is your house. You’ll sleep terribly on the floor.”

“And you won’t?” Clarke’s look is pointed.

“I’ll be fine.” Lexa isn’t sure she will be, but she can’t let Clarke sleep on the floor in her own room

Clarke looks at her bed, which is definitely bigger than a twin, and then back at Lexa. “My bed is huge. We can just share. There’s plenty of room.”

The idea of sharing a bed with Clarke makes Lexa’s heart pound even more pointedly, though whether from fear or excitement she isn’t exactly sure. She wants to say no, probably should say no, because she doesn’t want anything to ruin her friendship with Clarke. But she can’t deny the thrill that runs through her at the idea of sleeping in the same space as Clarke, even if they won’t be touching. At all.

Clarke is looking at her expectantly, so Lexa agrees. “Sure. Sounds good.”

Clarke smiles so brightly that it lights up her face, and Lexa groans inwardly just a little bit. This might be harder than she expects.

Clarke climbs into her bed and makes herself comfortable on the left side, where it is obvious she usually sleeps. Lexa can’t help but feeling amused because at home, in her own bed, she always sleeps on the right side. 

Once they both settle on their separate sides of the bed, Clarke looks over at Lexa, and says “I’ve had a lot of fun today, Lexa. I’m glad you could come over.”

“Me too,” Lexa replies, and Clarke turns the lamp off, and the room is plunged into darkness. 

Lexa is nervous about the prospect of falling asleep, since she is lying uncomfortably still on the bed, hyper aware of Clarke’s proximity to her. After a few minutes of listening to Clarke breathe and trying to ignore the thoughts racing in her head, Lexa feels herself begin to drift off.

Lexa wakes up with a start, looking around the unfamiliar surroundings before she remembers she is in Clarke’s room, in Clarke’s bed, on a sleepover. She tries not to move, not wanting to wake Clarke up since judging by the lack of light, it is still very late, or maybe very early. But she’s confused by an unfamiliar weight on her abdomen, and when she blinks the sleep out of her eyes her breath catches in her throat when she realizes that the weight she feels is Clarke’s arm, thrown over her middle and holding her close.

As Lexa is having an internal freak out, trying to decide what to do next, Clarke tightens her grip and snuggles closer. Lexa takes a small breath, tries to steady her increasingly erratic heartbeat, and then Clarke makes a small contented sigh and starts  _ talking. _ In her sleep.

“Lexa,” Clarke mumbles, her voice hazy with sleep, “you’re a great friend, so pretty. Think I love you, Lexa.”

Lexa feels herself start to panic. Clarke said  _ what? _ Does she actually mean that? Can you mean what you say when you’re completely asleep? Lexa debates waking Clarke up for a few seconds, thinks she will just ask her what she means, but the idea of Clarke denying it and being embarrassed about something she didn’t mean to do is too much of a risk. Lexa doesn’t think she could survive the heartbreak.

So Lexa closes her eyes again, remains rigid and unmoving on the bed, and hopes that she will fall asleep again before she does anything she will regret. 

In the morning, when Lexa wakes up again, she is equally relieved and disappointed to see that she is alone in Clarke’s bedroom. There are distant sounds of laughter and the clanging of pots and pans that tell Lexa breakfast is being prepared.

She takes her time getting ready, throws her hair up in a messy braid and changes her clothes while she’s in the bathroom. She packs her bag up, trying not to think about the previous night, and walks down the stairs to the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Lexa!” Mr. Griffin says brightly. He is at the stove, flipping pancakes.

“Morning,” Lexa says quietly. Her stomach is a roiling mess of nerves and her muscles ache from how awkwardly she slept the night before. 

Clarke is sitting at the table, flipping through a catalogue idly, but she grins when Lexa takes a seat next to her. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Lexa says softly. Which is a lie, but she doesn’t know what else she is supposed to say.

Clarke looks a little subdued at her answer, but doesn’t say anything else. And before Lexa can respond further, a plate is placed in front of her. They eat breakfast mostly quietly, though Mr. Griffin entertains Clarke and Lexa with silly jokes that both girls can’t help but laugh at.

As soon as breakfast is over, a knock on the door announces that Anya has arrived to take Lexa back home. Lexa knows Anya doesn’t like to wait, and she has no interest in getting on Anya’s bad side this early in the weekend.

“Thanks for coming,” Clarke says softly, giving Lexa a quick hug. “I hope you had a good time.”

“I did,” Lexa assures her, and it’s true. She just wishes her thoughts weren’t a jumbled mess, and that the hug didn’t add too much to the confusion. 

Anya doesn’t speak more than a few words to Lexa on the way home, which doesn’t bother her in the slightest. Lexa is still trying to process the words she heard Clarke mutter in her sleep, and the feel of her body tucked against Lexa’s. She wants to feel Clarke’s arms around her again, and for it to be real this time. But the idea of having to admit that to Clarke, and the likelihood of being turned down? That’s a risk Lexa isn’t sure she is brave enough to attempt. 

By the time Monday morning rolls around, Lexa is a ball of nervous energy. She hasn’t heard much from Clarke since Saturday morning, and she isn’t sure what to expect when she sees her at school. So when Clarke turns the corner and smiles one of her brightest smiles, Lexa can’t help but exhale a sigh of relief.

“Hey! How was the rest of your weekend?” Clarke asks when she reaches where Lexa is standing.

“Fine. Pretty boring mostly, I worked on a lot of homework.”

Clarke makes a face at the mention of homework and then her smile returns in full force, “Sounds productive at least.”

Lexa nods, but before she can say anything else, the bell rings. She gives Clarke an amused look and heads toward her first class of the day.

It’s a typical Monday, boring classes and homework assignments and her classmates’ gossip from the weekend. By the time the last bell of the day has sounded, Lexa is more than ready to head home. But first she is excited to see Clarke, they haven’t had a single class together today and aside from lunch they haven’t seen each other all day. Lexa makes a stop at her locker, selecting which books she needs to take home and which can stay, and then hoists her backpack up on her shoulders and heads towards the bus.

Clarke is waiting outside when Lexa walks through the doors, and she waves her over as soon as their eyes meet. “Come here,” Clarke says and leads Lexa around a corner of the school to where they are out of the view of other students waiting on the bus.

“What’s going on?” Lexa asks, a little confused. Clarke is biting her nails, which is something she only does when she’s nervous.

“I just needed to talk to you,” Clarke says hesitantly, she is tripping over her words which Lexa would normally find endearing if she wasn’t so worried. “I, um, I woke up the other morning sort of cuddled up to you,” Clarke exhales her explanation out in a loud breath, her face quickly turning red.

Lexa is shocked. Not that Clarke cuddled up to her, of course, because she doesn’t think she could ever forget how that felt. “Okay?” Lexa says, but it comes out like a question.

“Okay?” Clarke repeats. She has stopped the assault on her fingernails, and her expression has turned more curious. “You’re not mad?”

Lexa considers what she should say, goes back and forth with herself in her head, and makes her decision when she sees the panic on Clarke’s face. “Why would I be mad?” Lexa says softly, and she steps closer to Clarke.

Clarke’s eyes widen comically, “I have no idea. I just figured you -”

Lexa silences Clarke with a kiss. It’s her first kiss, and she’s taken aback by both the softness of Clarke’s mouth and the jolt she feels where their lips connect.

It’s over after a few seconds, and Lexa steps back to look at Clarke with amusement. “I wouldn’t be mad, Clarke,” Lexa says softly, “because I feel the same way.”

Lexa is rewarded with Clarke’s brightest smile ever, and for the first time, they almost miss the school bus.


End file.
